Strobe
by ToastyToaster22
Summary: A collection of oneshots that are focused around my other story, Skittles. Behind the scenes moments, other characters POVs and more! Reading Skittles first is recommended. Chapter 5: Hiroaki Ishida had a MUCH longer Friday night than Yamato knew.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! Strobe is a collection of oneshots that are directly related to my ongoing fic, Skittles. If you haven't read that yet, Strobe probably won't make any sense, so its highly suggested. I will be updating both stories at the same time, posting new Strobe chapters when the corresponding Skittles chapters comes out. Skittles is from Yamato's POV, so sometimes he misses things. If there's a moment in Skittles where you go, "Oh man, what just happened?" or "Why is so and so acting like such a poop?" there is probably going to be a Strobe chapter for it.**

 **At one point all of Strobe was smushed into Skittles, but all the POV changes hurt my head and messed up the flow.**

 **This first chapter gives us a little insight on why Patamon was so smug in chapter 4, and why Sora was all blushy about it.**

* * *

The Digital World was quiet. Sunlight filtered down through the rustling leaves, casting constantly moving shadows across the forest floor. Curled up for a nap on a wide tree branch were two small digimon. Or at least one of them was napping, the other was having no such luck.

Patamon was restless. He yawned and stretched and tried to relax and close his eyes, but sleep would not come. He picked at some bark, unable to stop his fidgeting. He was growing increasingly unsettled as the sun made its way across the sky. His small paws rubbed at his eyes and he laid down once more. His companion peeked an eye open at him.

"How's a digimon supposed to get some sleep with you making such a racket?" Tailmon grumbled.

Patamon's ears drooped.

"Sorry, I just... Something's wrong."

Tailmon groaned and opened her other eye to give her friend a flat stare.

"Takeru's been late visiting before, Patamon. Last time you were freaking out and what happened?"

The orange digimon huffed and looked anywhere but at Tailmon.

"His coach kept him late for basketball practice."

The cat like digimon smiled at her companion.

"And he showed up a little late and apologized and everything was fine, remember?" She added.

Patamon remained unconvinced.

"But this time my tummy hurts and I really think somethings _wrong._ Its Saturday, he doesn't have anything like basketball today," He countered. His stomach was definitely funny. It was as if he was worried for Takeru as he did during a battle, but there had been peace in the Digital World for over a year. Takeru was not here. There were no evil digimon threatening his partner. So why was he scared?

Sighing heavily, he tried for a third time to settle down for a nap. He had barely slept the night before, feeling uneasy and anxious.

Barely five minutes had passed before a faint calling disturbed them from their rest.

"Patamon!"

Both digimon's ears perked up and they peered into the trees.

"Is that Piyomon?" Tailmon asked.

Patamon didn't bother answering. He took off in her direction at once, earning a disgruntled shout from Tailmon. As he flew he was vaguely aware that she had climbed down the tree and was running along underneath him.

"Patamon, there you are! I was looking for you," Piyomon stopped and hovered in midair when she saw her orange friend hurrying her way.

"Is Takeru here?" He cried anxiously. The sight of Piyomon normally brought joy to his heart, but today it filled him with dread.

She shook her head, motioning for him to follow her as she flew back in the direction she had come.

"No, but Sora is, and she said she needs to talk to you."

Patamon felt like crying.

It wasn't long before Sora came into view. Patamon wasted no time, practically dive-bombing the poor girl and bombarding her with questions.

"Sora! Where's Takeru? Is he okay? Something happened, didn't it? I have a belly-ache and Tailmon thinks I am overreacting but I think somethings wrong and Takeru was supposed to visit _hours ago_ , and he isn't here!"

Sora gathered the flustered digimon in her arms and held him to her chest for a moment before pulling back.

"Hey, its all right. Calm down. I'm going to take you to him, okay?" She rubbed a comforting hand down his back and took a steadying breath. The chosen of love opened her mouth to continue, but was interrupted by another digimon hurrying through the trees.

"Oh good, Gabumon, you're here!"

Patamon clung to the thick fabric of Sora's sweater. She needed to talk to Gabumon too? Fear churned more solidly in his gut. Had something happened to Yamato too? Did something bad happen to the whole family? He held back a small whine.

"Sora, Agumon said you wanted me?" Gabumon looked up at her concernedly. "Patamon are you okay? You look a little sick."

Sora knelt down, taking Patamon with her, and rested a hand on Gabumon's back.

"Okay, you two, I need you to listen and try to stay calm okay?" The problem was that Sora herself did not sound a hundred percent calm. Her voice wavered just the smallest bit, but Patamon heard it. Sora's brow furrowed and she held the little digimon a bit tighter.

"Sora, where's Takeru?"

"Patamon, Takeru's... He's in the hospital."

Patamon's heart fell into his stomach. Sora continued slowly.

"He was on the bus last night and there was an accident. Takeru is going to be okay, Patamon, but he had to go to the hospital. He- He hurt his head pretty bad and his wrist and he's kinda banged up right now, but he's awake. I think he'd like to se- I'm sure he wants you there."

Patamon caught the stumble in her sentence, but wasn't quite sure what to make of it. He just held on tight to her sweater and tried to control his trembling. His partner had needed him and he wasn't there to protect him? He was hurt and in the hospital?

"Yamato and Mr. Ishida are there with him, Patamon. I promise he isn't alone. You know Yamato would never let that happen," She reassured the shaking digimon.

"How is Yamato?" Gabumon asked quietly.

Sora sighed.

"Taichi stayed with him all last night at the hospital and Yamato slept over at his house. He says Yamato is doing pretty well, considering. But I am sure he would love nothing more than to have you home when visiting hours are over. I was planning on taking you to the Yagami's. Taichi and Hikari are there right now, so if Agumon and Tailmon want to come too, they can. But you're going to come to the hospital with me, Patamon. Its a good thing you are so small, right?" Sora faked a smile for him, but Patamon wasn't looking at her.

* * *

The walk to the hospital from the Yagami's apartment wasn't very long, but it was chilly. It was the perfect cover for having Patamon bundled up in what looked like an extra jacket. The little digimon hadn't let go o the chosen of love the whole time they gated back. Taichi briefly mentioned that Yamato had sent out an email telling everyone what had happened, and that at the moment, Takeru wasn't up for visitors. Patamon couldn't help but tear up at that, but everyone present tried to assuage his fears and told him that Takeru was probably just tired and would want him there no matter what.

"Patamon?" Sora broke the little digimon out of his thoughts.

"Hmm?"

She hesitated a little, not knowing quite what to tell Takeru's partner. It was better that he knew a little something before going in to see Takeru. Would the digimon understand medical terminology?

"I just wanted you to know what's going on before we see Takeru. Remember how I said he hurt his head?"

She felt Patamon nod against her.

"Well... when humans hit their heads really hard a lot of different things can happen. Sometimes they just have a headache or get really dizzy, or feel sick to their stomach. But sometimes it's more serious and they get confused, or forget things."

The orange digimon started at that.

"Like those forgetfulness mushrooms we almost ate? Did Takeru forget me?" He asked in a frenzy.

"Oh no, Patamon. Yamato didn't say anything about him forgetting anything. I don't think he has any amnesia," Sora consoled him quickly. "And even if he did, it usually goes away on its own for this kind of thing, I think."

She felt Patamon slump against her more.

"Good," He looked up at her with his big blue eyes full on worry. "Sora, what's wrong with him?"

The girl sighed.

"I don't exactly know, Yamato was pretty vague... But he said that Takeru can't really see well right now. The doctor doesn't think its permanent!" She finished hurriedly when a look of horror crossed his face. "It sounded more like his eyes hurt, like they're really sensitive right now. He'll get better, I'm sure of it. Yamato just wanted you to know so you didn't get too upset when you saw Takeru," Sora floundered.

Patamon was quiet as they entered the hospital, staying as still as possible. After checking in and being directed towards the elevator, he allowed himself to relax in Sora's arms. A thought crossed his mind.

"Sora, if Takeru doesn't want to see anybody, why did Yamato say you could come?"

A light flush graced her cheeks for a moment before she cleared her throat.

"Er, well I told him I was bringing you of course! If Takeru doesn't want to see me I can drop you off with Yamato and go home."

Patamon was confused by her flustered tone, but ignored it in favor of addressing what he saw to be the more important issue.

"It wouldn't be very nice for you to do all this work and not get to see Takeru."

"Its okay, really. If he doesn't want to see anyone right now I can hardly force myself on him. He needs to recover and rest."

Out of the corner or her eye she caught the digimon smiling at her.

"I don't think Takeru will send you home," He said confidently.

Sora paused halfway down the hallway, looking down at the digimon in her arms suspiciously.

"Patamon, he apparently didn't even want _Hikari_ to visit. I don't think he'll want to see me."

Patamon rolled his eyes at her.

"Of course he didn't want to worry Hikari. Takeru wouldn't want her all sad and concerned about him. If she came to see him he would pretend everything was fine."

Sora had to agree with him there.

"Why do you think he would see me when he won't see his best friend?" She said skeptically.

Snuggling smugly in her arms, Patamon replied bluntly.

"Because you are important to him."

Sora was taken aback. Not that Takeru wasn't important to her as well, but to hear it so directly was different.

"Takeru really looks up to you," Patamon continued, oblivious to Sora's bewildered expression. "He has for a long time. He loved that you never treated him like a baby back when you all were in the digital world the first time. You always helped him, but in the same way you would help anyone on the team, you know?"

The chosen of love tried to hold back the smile that was threatening to take over her face. She remembered being so worried about Takeru when they first began their adventure. He was so much younger, so much smaller, and so sensitive. Yet again and again he proved himself to be a resilient kid, going through perhaps the most of any of them, and still coming out the other side a happy, optimistic child. Sora admired him in her own way. He had done nothing but impress her since she met him. A warm feeling bubbled in her stomach at Patamon's statement.

"Let's go see him," She said softly.


	2. Taichi

**Hello, I hope you were all curious as to what happened when Yamato and Hikari were off plotting!**

* * *

Takeru wasn't sure at what point he had drifted off during Taichi and Hikari's visit, but he was pretty sure he was dreaming. Something in the back of his head was whispering that this was _wrong,_ that he was in the hospital and definitely wasn't four years old anymore. He had to be dreaming because he swore he had seen this before.

Yet it didn't stop his stomach from lurching when he watched his dad taking a _way too small_ Yamato by the hand and turning to walk out the door of their apartment. A familiar fear rose inside of him and he needed to run to the door before it closed. He knew that he never made it. That Daddy and onii-chan were _gone._ But if he could just make it this time, maybe it would be different. He couldn't just let them leave! This time was different, he realized. Tiny legs strained, but the air pulled at them like he was slogging through quicksand. No, he was supposed to be scrambling for the doorknob! The door was closed, but he was making no progress toward it no matter how he tried.

Screaming proved pointless as well. He swore he was trying, but no sound came forth. In fact, there was no sound _anywhere_. This was all wrong. Mama should be grabbing him and crying too and telling him everything was going to be okay. Even though he's had this dream before and it really happened and he knows its not going to be okay, not for a long while.

But there are no warm hands coming to hold him. Suddenly fearful of the thought that she had left him too, the boy spun around to search behind him. The apartment has disappeared and he's older and there are _two bright bright lights speeding toward him way too fast._

Terror gripped him like never before and everything was too bright, too fast. His eyes hurt but he couldn't look away. Without warning, the silence erupted into the deafening shrieking of twisting metal. He tried to throw his hands over his ears but nothing helped. The lights vanished but the noise remained, and was that people screaming over the sound of metal wrenching? _It was too dark and too loud._

Takeru's eyes snapped open but the darkness remained. He jolted forward in the hospital bed gasping, his ears ringing and the horrible noise still echoing over and over in his head. The twelve year old was vaguely aware he was shaking. How much of that was real? Had he actually woken up seconds before the crash? Or was his brain just trying to catch up with what had happened? All he knew was that it was still too dark, _too dark,_ _ **too dark!**_

Hands scrabbled at the mask. He didn't care that it would probably hurt to take it off, he just needed to see, damnit. The ringing in his ears died down enough for him to recognize a familiar voice telling him to calm down. Familiar, but not Yamato. Where was onii-chan? He never left. Uselessly stiff fingers on his left hand refused to get any grip on the velcro at the back of his head. His chest was too tight.

Two firm hands grabbed his wrists and lowered them to his lap. Takeru wanted to resist, but the person pulled him close and he could feel one hand rest on the back of the mask.

"Hey, hey, hey, you're okay. I got you. You want me to take this off?"

Taichi.

The younger boy nodded frantically, trying to get some control over his breathing.

"All right, close your eyes. Its going to be bright," Taichi warned.

Takeru shut them as tight as he could and held his breath.

Oh god, it _was_ bright. His head instantly gave a hearty throb. He shielded his face with his right hand and held on to the sleeve of Taichi's shirt as tightly as his left would allow. Sucking in a few deep breaths he peeked his eyes open. The dull sting behind his eyes told him the morphine was still working, but was a much lower dose than yesterday.

Okay, he could kind of see Taichi's leg, and that was his own arm right there, he could see the neon green cast on his wrist. That was good, it was still quite blurry but at least his vision wasn't doubled the way it had been last night when the nurses tested him. Though it did seem to be wavering around... that would be new.

Surprisingly gently, Taichi wiped a thumb under his eyes. Oh. He was crying. Well that made sense he supposed. Takeru tried looking up at Taichi's face, his heart finally starting to slow down. He could tell he was looking at his head, with that huge blob of brown it was hard to miss, but he couldn't quite make out any features yet.

"Where's onii-chan?" He asked shakily.

Taichi let go of his elbow and put his arm over Takeru's shoulders. It was nice. Warm and grounding. Yamato was always freezing.

"Hikari skipped out on lunch because she was so excited to see you. So Yamato took her and Patamon down to the cafeteria. You were only asleep maybe ten minutes. You have a bad dream?"

Takeru let out a slightly hysterical sound. His ears were still ringing slightly. Leaning his head on Taichi's shoulder, he let his eyes close. He was still tired, and he still didn't like the dark, but at least with the mask off he knew he could just open his eyes if he wanted to see.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Taichi offered.

"I-I don't know," Takeru mumbled. He wiped his eyes gingerly. The left side of his face was tender. Tears continued to come quietly, and he sniffled a little. "It was just really fast... like it was all light and then dark and too loud and... I dunno. Just really disorienting."

"Mm, that sucks."

Takeru nearly giggled at Taichi's blunt appraisal of his situation.

"Yup."

They were quiet for a few minutes. Taichi was so refreshing. Yamato had been so amazingly attentive and caring these past few days, but he knew the poor guy was stressed out. Sora visiting yesterday had relieved some of his tension, but Takeru suspected that his brother hadn't slept more than a few hours since Thursday. It was eating at him, and Takeru was actually glad Yamato had taken some time away from him, even if it was just to grab a late lunch with Hikari. He preferred his big brothers company over most people's, but Taichi wasn't the overly fussy type. Until it came to Hikari. But he wasn't Hikari, and he was more than happy to just lean on his former leader and take some deep breaths. Taichi was always so confident and honest, he had asked the question before even realizing it.

"I'm going to be okay, right?"

The chosen of courage snorted.

"Of course you are."

Takeru smiled.

"Yeah, I think so too."

"How's your head feeling with the mask off?" Taichi rubbed his shoulder comfortingly.

Takeru could feel himself starting to nod off again.

"Hmm? Oh, um, less than stellar I guess."

"Do you want to put it back on, or wait a minute or two?"

Takeru huffed.

"I should probably put it back on," He muttered sleepily. He should probably move too, but Taichi was unreasonably comfortable.

After a few seconds Taichi chuckled at him and carefully, somehow managed to get the mask on him with one hand. It felt like it would fall off if he so much as blinked, but Takeru didn't even plan on doing that. The throbbing in his head died down almost instantly.

"How's that?" Taichi asked.

Takeru sighed contentedly.

"Perfect."

* * *

 **Yeah, it was short but sweet. I LOVE Takeru/Taichi friendship so much. Takeru deserves all the big brothers and sisters ever.**


	3. Natsuko pt 1

**We are going a bit back in time to Friday night here, the night of the accident. And man, it was super annoying trying to make all the time differences accurate between Paris and Japan, while I was in the US. It was messing majorly with my head and I had to write out two different story timelines to keep Natsuko's part accurate.**

* * *

Natsuko had been startled to come back from shopping and an early dinner with her father to find her phone had six missed calls and four voicemails. She had not thought to take it with her, international calls on cell phones were so expensive, who would call unless it was an absolute emergency?

Worry knotted tightly in her stomach, she checked the missed calls.

Three were from Yamato.

Two were from Hiroaki.

One was a number she did not recognize.

There were none from Takeru.

Michael Takaishi paused in removing his jacket to see that there was a message blinking on the house phone. Unaware of his daughter's unease, he pressed play. Natsuko whipped around to stare at the machine as the mechanical voice chimed out,

"You have one new message. Friday, four eighteen pm. Beep. _Natsuko, its Hiroaki_ ," She heard him sigh heavily, " _You need to come home._ " It sounded as if he began to say more, then a moment of silence, and the call disconnected.

Michael stared at his daughter in open concern as the machine chimed behind him.

"Natsuko honey, what's this all about?" Michael came up to her and rested a hand on her shoulder. She was pale and obviously frightened, looking down at her cell phone as if it would detonate at any moment. "Natsuko?"

She didn't look up as she whispered,

"Takeru didn't call," She raised a hand to her mouth. "Something happened to my baby and I'm too scared to press a button to find out."

Michael guided her towards the kitchen table and settled her in a chair, taking the one next to it for himself.

"You are a strong woman, darling, and you love your children. I will be right here if you need me."

Natsuko nodded and braced herself. The first message came in at two fifty.

"Hello, this is Tokyo Medical University Hospital. I am calling to inform you that your son, Takaishi Takeru was admitted this evening with injuries due to a vehicle incident. Your presence is requested at this time as his legal guardian. Please call 358-9100 if you have any questions. Thank you."

Natsuko swallowed past the growing lump in her throat and pulled the phone away from her ear. The next two messages were from Yamato, one at three twenty and another at three twenty two. The first one yielded little more than garbled background noise for exactly eleven seconds and went dead. The second was silent for the first six or so seconds, then a loud but muffled noise forced the phone away from her ear. She pulled it back frantically as she hear a familiar voice speak out, though it was not the one she had expected.

"Mrs. Takaishi, sorry, it's Taichi. Yamato's a little … I know the hospital called you about Takeru, but Yamato just wanted to let you know that he's here in the waiting room and Mr. Ishida is on his way. Takeru is in surgery, he- The doctor is supposed to talk to us when he gets out. We'll keep you updated. Don't worry, I'll stay with Yamato as long as he lets me," There was a distant shout cut short by the message ending.

Natsuko almost smiled. Thank God her sons had such good friends. She was sure that Yamato had been embarrassed to hear Taichi's declaration and probably grouched about how he was sixteen and didn't need a babysitter. The gesture had been clear though, and the mother was heartened to know that at least one of her sons was being taken care of.

She reached out and gripped her father's hand resting on the table and listened to the last message, which was from Hiroaki.

"Nat..." God, just by that one word she could tell he was smoking. "Takeru was moved to the pediatric ward. They let us see him for a bit. He's pretty banged up but he's going to make it. We're staying at the Yagami's place tonight. Its closer. Call me, we'll be up all night I bet."

The woman took a moment to collect herself before turning to look her father in the eye, knowing he had heard every word.

"I need to be with my kids."

Takaishi Natsuko would move heaven and earth to get to her children. Hadn't she stolen a rowboat a few years ago in order to get across the bay during the fog incident? She could do this too.

Unfortunately the whole world seemed to fight her every step of the way. First of all, there were no direct flights from Paris to Tokyo until Monday. One flight on Saturday morning would send her first to Moscow, and then to Hong Kong for a nine hour layover that got her to Tokyo no sooner than had she waited to fly until Monday. Honestly, why were these flights even offered? Finally she settled for leaving Saturday at noon, staying in Beijing for a one hour layover and landing in Tokyo around six thirty in the morning on Sunday because of the damn seven hour time difference. That would be tolerable, she could be with Takeru before he was even awake so long as there wasn't much traffic. She would be okay.

And she would have been okay if her flight from Beijing hadn't been delayed four hours. And she certainly wasn't okay when her bags nearly got stolen by someone at the baggage carousel who wasn't looking closely enough. By the time she was trying and failing to hail a cab from the airport arrivals gate, Takaishi Natsuko was out for blood. Her only blessing came in the form of a fellow mother, who, when seeing her haggard face, yanked her teenage daughter back from stepping into their taxi and offered it to Natsuko instead. Mrs. Takaishi thanked her profusely, driven almost to tears, but the other woman just waved her away.

So now, nearly seven hours later than she had expected, Natsuko half ran down the halls of the pediatric ward. In her opinion she had wasted enough time and wasn't going to worry about looking calm and composed. Anyone running around a children's hospital with bags under their eyes as big as hers was either an overworked doctor, or a parent. Both were to be respected.

Finally after all her trials, Natsuko stood panting slightly with her hand on the doorknob of her child's room. This was it. Her stomach clenched.

Yet as she twisted the knob and entered, the scene set before her was nothing like what she had been picturing for the past thirty-six hours.

The four occupants of the room turned quickly to look at her, two of them freezing at the look on her face and looking embarrassed, if not guilty. Yet she only had eyes for the smaller figure in the middle. Takeru was sitting up in bed, no pain evident on his face, grinning like he hadn't a care in the world. He wore huge green rimmed sunglasses and _what on earth was that thing on his head? Was that actually supposed to be a hat?_

"Who dares trespass in the fun zone?" His attempt at sounding stern was ruined by his choked giggles.

Natsuko stood stunned. Had she come all this was only to interrupt them playing cards? Fast food bags lay scattered on the guest chairs, upbeat music played quietly from a small radio, and Patamon sat on Yamato's lap wearing striped socks on his ears. Yamato and her ex-husband were frozen, staring at her in thinly veiled horror.

Patamon unfroze and happily greeted her.

"Hi Takeru's mom!"

Takeru jumped, slamming his cast into the bottom of the dinner tray and nearly upsetting his soft drink cup. A few playing cards fluttered to the floor.

"Mom!"

* * *

 **The next chapter is Natsuko and Takeru, and takes place immediately afterward. It should be up pretty soon!**


	4. Natsuko pt 2

**Heyyyyy, who's ever anticipated something so much that when it actually happens and it doesn't quite live up to your expectations... you get cranky. Poor Takeru. Poor mommy Natsuko.**

 **This takes place immediately after the last chapter. Probably the only two-shot planned for Strobe.**

* * *

At Patamon's exclamation Takeru jumped, straightening up and smiling even wider. He knew she was coming, but his mother's sudden appearance had startled all of them. There was a brief silence before his mother ground out,

"Hiroaki, a word."

The atmosphere had gone from light and cheery to tense in a matter of seconds. Takeru's smile slipped. They wouldn't fight while he was in the hospital, right? He felt an old pang in his chest.

Chairs were being moved on both sides of his bed. He felt the weight of the dinner tray leave the mattress, and the addition of his partner's warm paws near his knee. There were footsteps, clothes rustling and the sharp crinkle of paper. Someone whispered something low, and the door shut with a cold, solid click. Then nothing. The radio had been turned off.

Confusion swirled in his belly, did everyone leave? Surely onii-chan wouldn't have gone without saying anything? The room was too quiet and his heart was suddenly much too loud. There was nothing solid to ground him except the bed. He gripped the sheets in his lap, the fingers on his left hand twitching with the movement. The feelings he had been trying to ignore since Sora left came creeping back, welling hot in his chest. He felt like such a baby for admitting it, but he really wanted his mom. And now she was here, but favored yelling at his dad over seeing him? That wasn't fair to either of them. He was sure she was just stressed from all her delays, but couldn't she visit him first? They hadn't seen each other in nearly two weeks anyway. Tears he couldn't wipe away pricked at his eyes and his throat felt tight. Muffled shouting erupted from the hallway, too quiet for him to make out.

A loud, frustrated sigh a few feet to his right scared the wits out of him. Takeru tried to calm his frantic heart, appreciating that he was no longer hooked up to the heartbeat monitor.

"Onii-chan?"

"Sorry Teeks," His brother sounded tired suddenly. Old. "She's probably just nagging Dad about letting you eat junk food in the hospital. We won't tell her about the skittles, kay?" Takeru could hear the forced smile. Yamato hadn't tried to make a joke out of his parent's fighting since before the divorce. It wasn't a nice reminder.

Takeru's face crumpled and the eye patches under the mask rubbed on his wet cheeks.

"Can't they get along for a few minutes?" His voice sounded stained even to his own ears. He reached up and pulled off the sunglasses, dropping them next to the bed where he hoped the little table was. A soft clink told him he was on target.

Patamon crawled closer and Takeru reached out for him. Patamon's warm weight in his arms was always a comfort, touch especially important now that one of his other senses was cut off. He pulled the little digimon close and laid back on the raised bed, pulling his legs up. His left knee gave a dull twinge. He tried not to think about missing basketball.

"It'll be okay Takeru," Patamon said quietly, tucking the top of his head under the boy's chin.

Yamato sat heavily next to him on the bed and put his arm around his shoulders. Takeru curled into his brother's side, drawing comfort from his soft breathing and the sound of his heartbeat. The three of them stayed that way for a few minutes until the door cracked open again. Natsuko's voice carried softly into the room.

"Yamato, could you give us a minute, please?"

An irritated grumble was the only response. Takeru felt his brother's weight shift off the mattress and footsteps clacked quietly towards the door.

A low whisper sounded from his mom, but Takeru couldn't quite make it out.

Yamato's hissed response was clear though.

"Whatever, just don't take it out on _him_."

Takeru ducked his head. Did onii-chan mean him? Or was he referring to Dad? Why would Mom be upset with either of them really?

The chosen of hope was surprised by the irritation bubbling inside him. Who was he even mad at? Dad was doing his best to visit and work around his schedule, and Mom just flew halfway around the world to see him. His brother had been here every step of the way and Patamon was with him now too. He had it good. So why did he suddenly want his mom to just leave after wanting nothing more but to see her for the past day? Nothing made sense. His head was throbbing and the stitches on his temple were prickling uncomfortably against his skin. His left hand was frustratingly tingly and the edge of the cast tickled. Everything was just too much. Takeru was hot and everything was just so annoying and they had actually been having fun when Mom showed up and ruined everything.

Takeru paused at the uncontrolled thought. That was a bit harsh, but it felt true. He had been happy and distracted from the odd new aches that appeared each time the morphine wore off. His neck and back were becoming increasingly stiff and sore as the day went on, and playing cards had been a welcome relief. This was all just so stupid. Doctor Moriya had given him permission to play around and have fun and-

A warm hand on his arm startled his trainwreck of thoughts.

"Takeru, honey?" His mom sounded so exhausted and worried that he wanted to take back everything he just thought. Apparently his mouth had other ideas.

"Why did you do that?" He snapped, pulling away from her hand. Takeru froze, asking himself the same question. Regret churned horribly in his chest. That was so unfair of him. He loved his mom. She was trying.

"What?" His mother breathed beside him.

He couldn't answer. His head throbbed and horrified tears pooled in his eyes. Takeru knew that the concussion and medication could make him moody, but he hadn't expected it to make him _mean_.

"Takeru?"

Oh god, she sounded so hurt. He just wanted to curl up and disappear. Patamon was being uncharacteristically quiet in his lap. Takeru leaned forward as much as he could without crushing his partner and hid his face in his knees. He would not cry in front of her right now when he was the one who just said something nasty. His chin trembled traitorously.

He felt the bed dip on his left and held as still as possible. One soft, gentle hand hesitantly traced the bruising on his cheek. Against his will, he found himself leaning into the contact.

His mother wrapped him in her arms and pulled him close, tucking his head under her chin the same way he had done with Patamon. She rubbed his back tenderly and pressed endless soft kisses in his hair.

"Oh baby, I'm so sorry," She whispered.

The dam burst.

* * *

 **Sorry its a bit short, but anything I can't imagine Takeru actually confronting his mom any further than this. I think she is plenty smart enough to understand exactly what he meant.**

 **Kudos to the amazing parents out there who step up and apologize to their kids when they hurt them, accidentally or otherwise. It means so much to a child.**


	5. Hiroaki has a Bad Day

**Happy New Year everybody! I hope it will be a good one for all of us! This MAY be the last chapter of Strobe. Unless someone gives me some insight as to a really good reason for another behind the scenes...scene. This one was requested by LILFOC, who wanted to see a little more into Hiroaki's head. I noodled on it for a while and ended up writing this. I had always had this in mind for the Skittles timeline, but never had the right way to say it.**

 **Now we go all the way back to even before Skittles began. Enjoy!**

* * *

Hiroaki Ishida waited for the nervous young man to leave his office before dropping his head into his hands. _Be patient with the new interns,_ he repeated to himself, _they're young._ A little too young in his opinion, but hiring interns was his supervisor's job, not his. The man claimed that by snapping kids up right after graduation they could ensure that the station had points of view that were hip, fresh, and as unbiased as possible. Hiroaki understood wanting a range of ages and opinions among the staff, but he mostly just figured that his boss enjoyed looking at the younger girls. He smirked to himself and imagined his superior's face when over and over again, Hiroaki only sent male interns up to his office. How anyone could look at children (because that's what they were, really, most of them barely eighteen), like that was beyond him.

Speaking of children, it was great to have both of his in the apartment again. Yamato was a wonderful son; he did most of the cooking and cleaning, and for the most part kept to his curfew. The apartment could hardly be considered spotless, but it was cleaner than it would be if Hiroaki was left to his own workaholic tendencies. He had a terrible habit of forgetting to do laundry until the last minute and had many a day gone to work in a damp shirt or pair of socks. It was not the best way to start the day.

But Yamato was also a quiet, introspective boy, and rarely brought friends home. To many parents that would probably seem like the dream, a teenage boy they didn't have to worry about? Priceless. Hiroaki was not most parents. He knew how lonely and withdrawn his eldest could become if left to his own devices for too long. Thank god that Yagami boy randomly barged in here and there. His son needed the company, and the bushy haired boy was loud enough for the two of them. Taichi knew how to rile Yamato up, and though his son claimed the opposite, Hiroaki always thought that Yamato enjoyed their bickering. Despite those visits, he worried about Yamato's loneliness.

Having his younger son in the house was like a breath of fresh air. Takeru was young and seemed to exude a positive energy that filled the apartment. He was energetic and cheerful, and gave the space a certain feeling of home that Hiroaki missed. The boy had been visiting frequently, but rarely spent the night, and most days Hiroaki's work schedule demanded that he not return home until after Takeru had gone back to his mother's apartment. The effect Takeru had on his onii-chan was half the reason Hiroaki enjoyed having him over so often. Yamato practically glowed when Takeru was around. He spoke more, smiled more, and laughed at least twice as much. Hiroaki had come home early a few times to find Yamato cooking something he usually saved for special occasions, for Takeru. Each time he claimed that he needed to practice the dish, seeing as he made it so infrequently. Hiroaki indulged him and pretended to agree with his reasoning.

When Natsuko had called and asked if he were willing to house Takeru for over two weeks, Hiroaki had practically tripped over himself to say yes quickly enough. It had been years since he had been able to spend more than a few hours with his youngest son. He was growing up so fast, and Hiroaki did not want to miss any more of his life than he had to. He hardly heard his ex-wife talking about having to fly to France on short notice, her mother having attempted something a bit beyond her capabilities and currently laid up at home. All he could think about was finally getting some quality time with his kids.

Which was why he was currently groaning into his hands. Still at work. On a Friday night. Now, he _knew_ that Takeru was in Tamachi with some friends, but he would probably be heading home soon. He _knew_ that Taichi was back at his apartment watching moves with Yamato, but would not be sleeping over. Hopefully by nine-thirty or so the Ishida (and Takaishi) boys could have the apartment to themselves. He longed to leave the TV station and hurry home. It had been a rather slow day. The station's news director was out on a sudden and urgently needed maternity leave and her replacement was not due in until Monday. It was Hiroaki who had been asked to take over. Now, while he had many years of experience as a member of the station's news team, after the Odaiba Fog Incident of 1999 he had retired from working in the field and stuck to deskwork.

Very little had happened today, and Hiroaki was grateful for the lack of events. If they were to go out to cover a location, they would have to take at least one of the interns. Partly to get the poor soul some field experience, and for them to see how the pros covered the news… Partly to have someone to lug around the equipment. They covered a minor store robbery before noon, and had been twiddling their thumbs since then. The older man looked hopefully at the clock. If nothing happened in the next forty-five minutes, he could head home on time when the next shift came in.

Hiroaki had never been a very lucky man. Almost immediately one of the analysts hurried excitedly into the office.

"Big one sir! One of the Odaiba bus lines crashed by the Rainbow bridge. We need someone out there before Channel 6 steals our spot again."

Damnit. There went his night.

He stood and strode around the desk, grabbing his jacket as he followed his coworker down the hall.

"Get me Arakida and Hideki, and that uh, that anxious kid. Shit, what's his name? Makuda? Mazuko? Ugh, the one with the weird hair in the back, you know who I mean," Hiroaki gestured awkwardly at the back of his head. "I'll take van five, have them meet me there in two," He said decisively as they parted ways at the elevator.

Hiroaki patted his leg compulsively as the elevator made its way to the garage under the building. He itched for a cigarette. Why, oh why did Sawamura have to go into labor yesterday? Rolling his eyes at his own dramatics, he exited the elevator and grabbed the right keys from the hangers. Yeah, like it was her fault her baby decided to come a little early. He hopped into the driver's seat and started the vehicle, peeking at his cell phone for the address of the accident.

Moments later the side door opened and three people hurried into the van. Hiroaki quickly pulled out of the garage and onto the road.

"Hey, uh, kid," He called, looking in the rear-view mirror. "We're going to a car accident. You okay with blood? There might be some," Last year Sawamura claimed that three different interns puked at their first scene. Although apparently two of those were just from nerves and the thought of finally being on camera.

The young man's eyes widened, but the "Yes, sir," he gave sounded determined.

"Good man. Just wanted to give you some warning."

* * *

Hideki filled them all in with details from the crash as they drove. Hiroaki clenched his teeth as the information came in. Supposed drunk driver came from the east and blew through a red light, T-boning an Odaiba Rainbow Bus. Police and ambulances on the scene. Dozens injured. Drunk driver killed on impact. No other casualties reported.

 _Good_ , Hiroaki thought. Though it was somewhat cruel to be grateful for the injuries of so many people, Hiroaki was glad that the driver had hit a bus. It was so much larger, and the passengers sat much higher than in a regular car. If the drunk driver had hit another small car, it was doubtful that anyone would have survived.

He pulled the van as close to the scene of the accident as possible. The smallest flare of pride flickered in his chest as he scanned the crowd and saw that they had beaten Channel 6 News. They clambered out of the van with their equipment and hustled towards the barricade. Flashing their press passes, Hiroaki watched as his team set up their cameras with extreme efficiency. He was glad he had requested this team, they were a well-oiled machine, and it was good for the intern to see how smoothly the set up should be. Hiroaki stood and listened to Arakida begin her report for a minute or two before deeming the pair all set and slapping a hand to his funny-haired intern's shoulder.

"Alright kid, so there's more to the story than just the facts. While they cover the visuals, why don't you come with me and we can get some firsthand reports of what happened?" He pulled out a notepad and pen, handing it to the young man. "I'll ask the questions and you just jot down anything that seems important."

The intern nodded and they walked closer to where the police were clustered. Hiroaki took his first good look at the accident and grimaced. It was uglier than he expected. Glass and debris littered the road, and someone was shoveling sawdust over spilled car fluids. The car had been moved slightly away from the bus and Hiroaki almost cringed to see the front of the car demolished. The bus was in better condition, but the entire right side had crumpled inward and the glass had busted out of nearly every window. The smell of burnt rubber irritated the inside of his nose. At least the drunk driver had _attempted_ to stop.

The two men headed for a nearby cluster of concerned onlookers. They were congregated as close to the rightmost side of the barricade as possible, where the last of the ambulances was pulling away from the curb. Hiroaki spotted a teary young woman and pointed her out to his intern.

"See how she keeps looking back and forth from the accident to us? She will be good to talk to, probably wants some attention. Either that, or she thinks you're cute," Hiroaki tried to ease the tension in the young man's shoulders. A bright red blush told him it had worked slightly.

She turned out to be a decent source of information. She had been walking back from the bakery when she saw the car screaming up the road, far faster than the speed limit allowed. The car had attempted to lay on the breaks, but it was too little too late. The bus driver did his best to swerve, and had almost jumped the curb trying to get out of the way. Unfortunately, neither attempts were very fruitful, and the car had still slammed into the side of the bus, albeit at a slight angle.

They thanked her for her time, and Hiroaki pointed out another good candidate, encouraging his young partner to do the questioning this time. Makuda (Mazuko?) set his face and walked confidently up to the gentleman. Hiroaki followed, scanning the crowd for another person to interview. He listened in for a minute and felt slightly guilty when he noted the gentleman was only giving short, blunt answers. He would apologize to the kid after.

A loud, watery voice to his left caught his attention.

"Oh Saki-chan, it was so _awful!_ All those people hurt, and I saw children in the ambulances too. I just can't believe it," An elderly woman was sniffling to her daughter.

Hiroaki sighed, and tuned her out. He had turned back to his co-worker when her voice cut through the chatter again.

"-little foreign boy, hair so blond like that! How terrible, to get hurt while you're on a trip! And I didn't see any other light haired people, you think he was on a school exchange? Oh, that poor thing-"

Hiroaki's scalp prickled. He opened his mouth, but his throat felt suddenly dry. He swallowed compulsively, there was no reason to think it was… There were plenty of blond tourists in the city.

He felt himself inch in the older woman's direction. The daughter was trying to herd her mother away from the throngs of people and towards a storefront.

They were getting away. Hiroaki shouldn't leave his intern in a sea of people on his first day… but he had to know.

Without his permission, his legs were pumping, pushing him through the mob.

"Excuse me! Excuse me ma'am, please wait!"

The two women paused and looked warily in his direction.

"I'm sorry, sir, my mother does not wish to speak to the press. She is very upset," The younger woman wrapped a protective arm around her mother's shoulders.

"I understand completely, ma'am, and I am sorry to disturb you, but-"

"Thank you, sir, goodnight," The woman attempted to push her mother into the store, but the short woman stood her ground, peering up at Hiroaki.

"Saki-chan, don't be so rude. This young man isn't hurting me," She chastised her child.

If his chest wasn't so cramped, Hiroaki may have laughed at being called a "young man" when he was pushing forty-three.

"Thank you. You said there was a blond boy in the accident?" He said breathlessly. "Could you give me any details? How old he looked? Was he hurt?"

The daughter frowned at the raw fear that must have leaked into his voice and stopped trying to pull her mother away from him. Her mother on the other hand looked past him, back towards the bus.

"Yes, I saw him. Must have been ten, twelve, maybe? It was hard to tell; the paramedics were loading him into an ambulance. There was an awful lot of blood though," She looked back at Hiroaki, tears in her eyes again.

Hiroaki felt his breathing quicken, felt a cold sweat break out on his back. The need for a cigarette was intense. Every passing second felt like an hour. What on earth could he ask this woman to confirm who-

He was an idiot. Hiroaki suddenly flailed about, hands patting his pockets in desperation, looking for his wallet. He nearly dropped it trying to get it open and practically shoved the slip of photo paper into the woman's wrinkled hands.

"Was this him?" His heart thundered in his ears.

Old eyes peered in concentration at the clipped Christmas card photo. Natsuko and Takeru were posed in front of their tree, both wearing red holiday sweaters and matching smiles on their faces. Natsuko had not mailed it out to him with the others, but instead Takeru had given it to him a few days before last Christmas. He had cheerfully claimed that his dad needed a picture of him where he wasn't in diapers. That it was embarrassing.

"It looks a lot like him, but I didn't get that good a look. I'm really, very sorry, sir. I wish I could tell you it wasn't," She handed the photograph back to him as his face paled.

He should have said thank you. He should have done a lot of things in that moment. But before his brain could comprehend what those things were, he was barreling back through the crowd. Complaints raised up behind him as he ran. Hiroaki was clambering over a blockade before he had processed what he was doing.

"Sir! Where do you think you are going!?" Officers hurried towards him as he threw open the door to the bus. One man snagged the elbow of his jacket, and he let the police pull the coat from his back.

"You can't be in here! This is a crime scene, sir!" A middle-aged woman yelled in surprise when he appeared in the bus aisle. He didn't hear her. His eyes roved the damaged vehicle, little yellow numbers posted on the passengers' left behind belongings.

Police streamed onto the bus behind him, grabbing at his arms and yelling.

It didn't matter. Hiroaki only had eyes for one thing. There was an orange, blood spattered backpack with a little number sixteen tied to it. And clipped to the shoulder strap was the most disturbing thing he had ever laid eyes on.

Takeru's digivice.

* * *

 **I wondered if anyone would ever ask why it took Hiroaki over two hours to get to the hospital in chapter one. Turns out the police don't like it when someone runs amok in a crime scene. Luckily back at the station, he pulled himself together enough to tell them what happened, and his story was confirmed when the hospital called him.**

 **Waaaaay back when I was first thinking of starting Skittles, it was going to have a much more dramatic opening. It was either going to be this, or Yamato and Taichi seeing the broadcast on TV. And calling Takeru juuuuuuuust in case. And not getting through. Again and again. And it was going to be so angsty. But when I tried to write the scene (so many times) it just never felt organic. So I ended up skipping straight to the hospital and having to do some backstory.**

 **Poor Hiroaki was trying so hard to keep himself together for Yamato that first night. Yamato was just too wrapped up in his own worries to notice. That's what happens when you have such an unreliable narrator. I did say that there was a lot Yamato was not seeing. Kids aren't perfect.**


End file.
